


Winds may Howl, but Willows Weep

by Cain124



Series: We Build Our House In the Forest [3]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-27
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2017-12-13 02:58:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/819177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cain124/pseuds/Cain124
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emerson knows Loki would not leave without a reason. Something is very wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

            It was not often that Loki let months pass where he did not visit his young friend. Mortals grow so fast, Loki found himself fearful that he would return and she would have out grown his companionship. He and Thor had been so very close when they were boys. Now they seemed, to Loki, to inhabit different realms. He was determined not to let that happen with Emerson. Every week or so, Loki would disappear from the courts for hours, escaping to his Midgaurdian confidant.  No one questioned the second son’s absence. On the occasions that he would use the Bifrost, Heimdal would nod solemnly and send him directly to the oak tree in the park outside Emerson’s home. Once and only once, the gatekeeper had made the comment, “Your spirits are lighter now Prince”, upon his return, but that had been the extent of their conversation of the matter. Loki liked to think that they had an understanding. That Heimdal would not inform the All-Father as long as Loki never crossed the, as yet undetermined, line.

            The prince went on visiting Emerson undisturbed for years. Emerson grew up under the watchful eyes of the God of Mischief, a fact he liked to throw around quite a bit. Once Emerson had complained to him about a boy at school who was teasing her about being a Tom-boy, her words. The bot had come back to class the next week with all pink clothes. His mother had no idea how that could have happened in the wash, but Emerson didn’t need an explanation.

            She moved through her classes with a bored sort of ease that her teachers attributed to a high IQ and their excellent teaching abilities, but how was anything they taught her supposed to measure up to the history of the nine realms that Loki liked to pour over while they were toghether. Her mother enrolled her in outside language classes to keep up with her ever-growing vocabulary. She picked up foreign tongues as easy as you please.  Loki was filled to bursting with pride. He would listen to her talk about her school days with the same wrapped attention that she afforded him.

            She was fascinated by Loki’s knowledge and he was eager to share what he knew with someone who could finally appreciate all the things to which he had dedicated so much of his time. They would spend hours roaming Alfeim market places where his magic would disguise them both. He would make her practice the All-Tongue, which she struggled with at times, unlike the languages of her own realm. He would take her on adventures in less civilized realms. Loki would hold lessons on mathematics and science, pausing now and then to explain an equations or theorem. He knew it set her apart from her peers, knew what it could do to a child to live apart from the affection of others. When he asked her if it bothered her to be so different from everyone, Emerson had laughed at him; saying that she had a best friend who was way cooler than any one of her classmates. Loki was not clear on what being “cool” had to do with anything, but it seemed to be a good thing.

            She became used to seeing her friend regularly, holding their oddly informative adventures in the forests of Alfiem. Emerson was worried beyond reason when months passed with out seeing her dear friend. He had promised to see her on her birthday. He had promised to take her to see a festival in a distant realm. He had even requested that she wear the silken green tunic he had given to her weeks before. When he did not come at sunset she waited. She sat by the open window in her room all night, the hot summer air blowing against her face. Her first instinct was not to cry, her best friend would not forget her birthday, or his promise. Something was wrong and for months his absence sat heavy in her chest.

            Her effortless glide through her school days took on the monotonous drudgery of a chain gang. If her clueless teachers noticed the change in her demeanor they attributed it to hormones, she was thirteen after all. Even a genius could be a victim of their endocrine system. Her near perfect grades never slipped. Keeping up her marks was something she was sure Loki would have approved, he would see it as a silent rebellion.

            “Success can be revenge you know,” He had told her once. When she had asked why he knew so much about so many things.

            So she worked on tedious math problems that she and Loki had blown by months ago while sitting in the tree at the park. She muddled through her day to day worried for her friend.

            It had been four months of hell for the dark son of Odin. He had never seen a more gruesome battlefield. Dark Elves had taken the lives of scores of Asgaurdian soldiers. His brother had not lied when he said they needed him. Thor had needed a cunning liar to infiltrate the Dark Elves camp, to plant the seeds of chaos in the chain of command. There was no one better suited for the job than he. It had taken far longer than he had anticipated. He had been discovered and held hostage for at the hands of his enemies. Thor had tried to negotiate for his return, but in his ire had only made things worse for Loki. At the end Loki had never been so glad to see his one-eyed father in all his long life.

            Loki had needed to be carried out of the Dark Elves’ camp by Volstag. The warrior had always been the most accepting of Thor’s comrades. Volstag had winced at his first glimpse of Loki. Long bloody whip marks rained down his back, his once lithe form emaciated. Blue shadows haunted his sunken eyes and now hallow cheeks.

            “You are a ghost my brother,” Thor said once they pair had reached him at the mouth of the Bifrost.

            Thor had slept by his bed in the healing chambers until they healers had released Loki to go back to his rooms. The scars they assured him would fade in time, he was young and virulent. Loki did not wait long to sneak out to the Bifrost. He nodded to Heimdal in the same manner he had every other time he left Asguard.

            “She has missed you, prince.” Loki was surprised that the gatekeeper had bothered to keep tabs on a mortal girl when so many atrocities had been happening to Asguardians. He was about to say as much when Heimdal slid his legendary sword into the golden altar and Loki was pulled through the Bifrost.

            When he arrived it was night. The wind howled from an oncoming storm and Loki made his way up the street stiffly. His leg burned with every step and even the weight of his tunic seemed too much against the tender scars along his back. They had knitted the flesh back together swiftly enough, but only his magic would truly mend the ghastly ridges of pain. When he finally reached his destination he ran his hand through his hair vainly, staring up at the only lit window in the house. He had known she would be awake. He let himself in through the front door, hating that he was so weak and ghosted through the house careful not to wake the sleeping parents who would undoubtedly object to his entire being. He knocked on her door softly. She mumbled something through the door he knew was not an invitation, but let himself in anyways.

            She didn’t look up from the paper she was studying. She merely made an annoyed sigh and told him “I don’t care what time it is I am not going to sleep.”

            “I would certainly hope not,” He grinned devilishly when she looked up at him. “I have only just gotten here.”

            Of all the things he had imagined her doing when he finally returned, he had not imagined her crying. He had imagined laughter or shouting, even once when he was captured he had thought she would forget him entirely, but the tears sliding down her pale cheeks surprised him. She sat on her bed transfixed weeping for him. Loki rushed to her as best as his aching body would allow and she reached for him. They held each other for a long while without speaking. The storm picked up whipping the leaves on the oak outside against the windowpane, thunder boomed, and for the first time in Loki’s long life he didn’t think of Thor.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor worries about his brother.

            Thor had been bringing his brother food and mead from the feast when he saw Loki slip quietly from his rooms. His leg was still badly injured; his back had been in ribbons only a few days ago. He should be resting. Thor knew he was to blame for his brother’s state. He had blundered the peace talks with his temper and Loki had suffered grievously for it. Handing off the food to a guard he followed the limping prince as he wound himself through the palace. Stealth had always been Loki’s default setting, but Thor had never seen his brother practice his natural abilities so expertly as he did now.

            Loki was so intent to reach the Bifrost that he did not notice the blond behemoth on his trail. He had cried off at dinner telling his mother that he could barely lay in his bed without pain, sitting at feast would be a new kind of hell. It was not entirely a lie. His back had only just begun to truly mend and his leg was stiff at best.            

            Once they excited the courtyards, following Loki down the rainbow bridge was not an option for Thor. There was no place to hide should his brother hear him, which he most certainly would. There was hardly a whisper of wind on the air; the great glimmering city was in mourning. The noise that usually followed the end of a battle and the return of the realm’s soldiers was lost to the mournful silence of grieving families. Thor felt the loss keenly; he had seen so many of their bodies on the battlefield. Many of them had trained in the palace yard with him. Some of them had been in the castle guard. He was glad beyond words that his brother’s life had been spared, but he feared the cost it had taken on Loki might have been more than anyone yet knew.

            As he watched his brother begin the long walk down the bridge. He could see the hard set of his shoulders. Loki would take a few steps and then shimmer out of view appearing a yards ahead panting. When Loki staggered towards edge of the bridge, Thor almost gave away his position to pull him back to safety. At the last possible moment Loki shimmered out of view and reappeared in front of Heimdal. Thor waited until the tell tale flash of the Bifrost told him Loki had departed the realm Everlasting. Swinging Mjolnir high into the air he landed at Heimdal’s feet. The gatekeeper glanced down in his stoic manner, undisturbed.

            “I would not follow him yet my Prince,” Heimdal’s voice boomed in the silence of the night.

            “Heimdal,” Thor was stern and worried. “Where has he gone?”

            “That is not for me to say,” Heimdal gave nothing away. The gatekeeper had always been intimidating. It had always seemed that nothing could ruffle the calm exterior.

            “Would you tell me if it was?”

            “No,” he was strangely emotive tonight. “Know your brother is safe, my Prince.”

            Heimdal turned back to the Bifrost, raising his sword without another word. Thor was pulled through to an unknown realm. It was cold when he arrived, dark. The wind blew in great blustering gusts drowning out the noise of the Bifrost. Thor gripped his hammer tightly readying himself for another battle. He might have cursed the golden sword and its handler, if he hadn’t known he was watching. He spun around slowly trying to gain his bearings. Finding that he was not in some savage wasteland he relaxed.

            Loki was nowhere to be found in the dimly lit park, so Thor moved down the street careful to tread more lightly than he had in the peace talks. He did not like to sneak about like this. He was born to rule and to fight, not to slink around a puny mortal realm hoping to find his brother in one of these dwellings. Thor swallowed his vanity as it filled his throat. This journey was not for his glory; tonight he was here to watch over his brother. His brother the warrior, who had earned his place in the ranks under the boot and lash to save Asgaurdian lives. Pride could wait until he knew Loki was somewhere warm, somewhere his company knew how brave he was, somewhere he could settle for the night and find a bit of peace.

            The street was dark. A flickering street lamp put the darkened houses in sharp relief. Lightning lit up the sky and Thor grinned. This was a place he could grow to like. Thunder followed quickly. At the end of the street Thor saw a house with a single light warming the night. A large oak tree obstructed his view inside. He scaled a few limbs until he could peer through the pane.

            He was unsure of what he was expecting. Whatever convoluted ideas he had come up with as to why Loki would be in this mortal realm were nothing like what he found. The dark prince of Asgaurd, the Silver Tongued Trickster, the God of Mischief was holding a sobbing human girl. Loki was stroking the girl’s short wild curls affectionately. She was looking at Loki with such longing Thor felt it in his gut. This girl had been a victim of the war the same as any Asgaurdian.

            Thor was feeling the toll of battle in his heart and limbs as he made his way back to the park. As he called for Heimdal to bring him back home it began to rain. He needed rest and his brother needed comfort that Thor could see was beyond him.


	3. Chapter 3

 

            Loki shifted uncomfortably on the stiff, too short bed. Emerson was curled around a pillow, facing away from him. Her short hair was a wild array of curls. Loki watched her for a moment enjoying the quiet of the room. There were muffled footsteps outside the door and Loki took notice of the blue light creeping through the rain-drenched window. They must have fallen asleep and those footsteps must be Emerson’s fabled parents. Loki had never seen them, but he still disliked them. There was a sharp nock at the door followed by a shrill feminine voice telling Emerson to wakeup. The voice sounded urgent and Emerson bolted upright from the bed and spun around, searching for something. When her eyes landed on Loki, tension left her face, her body still coiled.

            “You’re still here,” Emerson smiled, which quickly was replaced by wide scared eyes when she heard the voice, presumably her mother, tell her to get downstairs or she would miss the bus. “Its Friday.”

            Her face fell like the posies being trampled by the rain outside.

            “I supposed to go to school,” her eyes caught his pleadingly.

            “I am sorry my dear, but I am not strong enough to cloak you from your responsibilities today.” Loki moved to sit up, barely getting his back off of the scratchy white sheets. “I am not even strong enough to move at the moment.”

            He grimaced as he continued to struggle to sit up. Emerson’s brows furrowed with worry. Seeing him in such a weakened state was frightening. Loki was always the one to worry over her fragility, now it was her turn. The voice came again through the door and Emerson rolled her eyes. She put her fingers to her lips and marched out of the room. He lay back against the stiff mattress, his limbs aching in protest. Staring at the ceiling he let his mind wander to the battlefields, the dark eyes of his tormentors, and the look of his brother’s shame as Loki was carried from the camps. Muffled voices and the clanking of dishes filtered through the walls. There were hurried footsteps and then the door open and Emerson walked into the room.

            “If you don’t mind darling,” Loki grimaced as he tried to sit up again. “I think I will stay here while you are away.”

            She winced as she watched Loki struggle. He groaned as she leaned over him, grabbing his hands she helped him into a sitting position. A masculine voice called a goodbye from somewhere on the other side of the door and then a woman’s voice said that she would call later to check on Emerson. Loki listened to their footsteps as they moved further and further down the hall.

            “I take it you won’t be leaving me quite yet.” He smirked.

            “Nope,” She was rummaging around in her tiny closet.

            “What did you say to them?” Loki leaned against the brass headboard and winced.

            “I told them the truth,” Emerson laughed at the confusion on his face.

            “You told your parents that you want to stay at home with an ancient wounded prince?”

            “No,” She opened the door to her room clothes wadded in her hand. “I told them that I wasn’t going to school, because I didn’t feel like it.”

             She had always surprised Loki with her vivacity. Even now as he was laying against her rickety little bed frame she shocked him with the bold strokes with which she made her way in the this small mortal world. Loki could not help but imagine how she might make her way in the realm Everlasting. Heimdall would never allow him to bring her to his home without alerting Odin. He wished he could though. She would gawk at the shining golden towers of the palace and he desperately wanted to take her to the libraries.  Emerson would sit with him by the grand fireplace and they could read the tomes of Asgaurdian history together. Perhaps he could even teach he magic. She could chase the cold lonely shadows out of the palace, but he would never be permitted to bring her home.  His chest throbbed as Emerson went into the bathroom to change. He took a long breath hoping it would abate, but it wasn’t until she returned freshly showered in clean clothes that the hallow pulsing in his chest stopped.

            “If I asked would you tell me what happened?” Emerson was standing at the end of the bed drying her hair with a towel.

            “I am not sure I can live through the telling of it just yet.” Loki stared down at his hands. There were thin scars across his knuckles where they had split open on the faces of his captures. Those injuries had had time to heal while he was being held. His other wounds had not healed as easily as his hands, there were ugly scars ringing his wrists that were still red with raw puckered edges. He pulled the linen sleeves down into the palms of his hands. The material scratched, but he ignored the discomfort in favor of smiling up at Emerson.

            “Then I guess it is my turn to teach you,” Emerson threw her towel over the closet door. “We are starting with ‘The Breakfast Club’, then ‘Point Break’.”

            She moved around the room putting a DVD in the player and turning on the TV. She slid onto the bed next to Loki and smiled.

            “Today, we are going to study pop-culture,” She grabbed the pillows at the end of the bed and flung them behind her. “You teach me all about the universe and I will teach you about the finer points of John Hughes and Patrick Swayze, may they rest in peace.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am terribly sorry it has taken me so long to get this chapter out.


	4. Chapter 4

            Thor paced through his rooms. His mother, Frigga, was worried about Loki. The doors to his brother’s rooms were locked and no one, not even the healers had been able to coax Loki from his sanctuary.  It was not as if Thor had expected his brother to want to see any of them. Even if Loki was in Asgaurd, which Thor suspected that he had yet to return from Midgaurd, he knew that Loki would not want anyone hovering around him in his injured state. Frigga had been to Thor on three separate occasions, asking if he had been able to speak with his brother. He had made up a shaky lie about having seen to Loki the night before. It had only assuaged his mother’s worry slightly and now he was starting to worry himself. Loki was in no condition to be traveling between realms, he needed care and rest. What could a Midgaurdian child do to help someone as wounded as his brother?

            The Warriors Three were sitting in front of the fire with Sif gazing out of one of the large windows. They were stiff, each sore from their own injuries. The room felt off, quiet and still, in a way that Thor had never experienced after a victorious battle. This war had been so different from the others they had fought. Their victory had not been swift; the violence had been so much crueler than anything he had seen.  He had always loved the rush of fighting, but this weighed on him, Loki’s torment weighed on him.

            Sif turned to face the room, her eyes falling on Thor as he paced. A thin pink scar ran from her temple across her cheek. It would heal over time, disappear into porcelain white of her skin, but the fear she felt as the blade sliced down her face would never fade.  She had rushed the Elves dragging an unconscious bloodied Loki further into their camp. His face had been almost unrecognizable tinged with blue. It was that image that haunted her dreams now. She had failed him.

            Hogun paced in front of Fandral. They had been with Thor when Sif brought the news about Loki’s capture. Thor had been silent. A seething hateful silence that crackled in the air. The skies had darkened with his anger. It was the first time Hogun and Fandral had actually feared Thor. His battlefield prowess was legend, but he had always had control. At the news of his brother’s capture he was lost. All his strength could not save Loki from what was to come, and they feared the rash actions that might come of this new anger. Their worries had not been idle concerns and now Loki had the scars to prove it.

            It was Volstagg who knew the real extent of the injuries. He had been the one to carry the prince from the camp, and he was not sharing what he had seen. He was sitting still starring into his tankard of mead, barely touching the side of boar on the great table. Volstagg was distant from the room his mind still at the darkened hillside where Loki had been kept. Neither food nor drink could pull him from that moment, and now the prince refused the comfort of company. Undeserved guilt tinged the lenses of his thoughts, if only he could do something more, but Loki wanted time to lick his wounds in solitude and Volstagg would give him that.

            Thor didn’t feel the same, but he kept Loki’s visits to other realms quiet. He wanted his brother close. The distance made him feel as useless as he had been in the negotiations, and so he paced. At least it helped ease the frantic buzz in his veins, if not the worry in his heart. Thor turned on his heel, moving towards the door when two guards appeared.

            “Heimdal requests your presence,” The guards nodded once and took their leave.

            The warriors turned to look at Thor their faces masks of confusion. He left without explanation, walking briskly through the palace to the Bifrost. Heimdal stood tall his back facing the rainbow bridge. The Gatekeeper did not look turn to look at Thor He simply began speaking.

            “You have been troubled my prince,” He continued to stare out into the abyss. “Your brother’s health weighing on you?”

            “Is he safe?” Thor’s concern outweighed any formality. “Does he need help getting home?”

            “No my prince,” Heimdal continued staring into the stars.

            “Then why have you called me here? If there is nothing I can do what is the point?” Thor’s voice rumbled like thunder in the dome of the Bifrost echoing his distress back at him.

            “Loki is in good hands my prince.” Heimdal turned to Thor, his golden eyes sharp. “I have watched the girl for some time; she cares for him.”

            “What can a child do that all the healers of Asgaurd cannot?” Thor paced the glinting chamber of the Bifrost. “He needs to be home, where we can protect him, where I…”

            “Prince, I do not think it wise to intervene between your brother and the mortal. Loki has always need his space, certainly now.” Thor looked at Heimdal not wishing to hear the truth, but it was sinking in despite his displeasure. “Would it truly serve your brother to take from him his comfort?”

            “You are wise Heimdal,” Thor looked out into the expansive void before him. “But what of his family? What comfort does this give our mother?”

            “It is not our Queen that is need,” Heimdal turned back to the stars. “It is my duty to watch over this realm, to protect it from harm. Loki has done great things for this kingdom, give him time.”

            Thor stalked away from the gatekeeper back down the bridge, his heart leaded with worry. Heimdal was right, but how much longer could it really last, humans were so fragile. This attachment would only hurt Loki later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So terribly sorry it has taken me so long to get this out. I have had many deadlines I have been rushing to meet.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own any of the Marvel characters. Sorry it took me so long to post this.


End file.
